


Sharp and Steady

by brewess



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: F/M, Implied Relationships, This is so sanguine i should be fired, anyway here we go first post in almost 10 months WOOO, basically this is just more of 'i miss my dead girlfriend', i am firing myself, i love this for me, i'm sorry to anyone who reads this because it's that bad, this is a half tied in piece to my last post if anyone actually read that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brewess/pseuds/brewess
Summary: Enjoy this sanguine sadboi moment with our favorite half elf. Also he's struggling with his werewolf shit so let's be nice to him thank you and goodnight.
Relationships: Liria Heavenbreaker/Valravyn mac Fiachra
Kudos: 3





	Sharp and Steady

The flowers had been in bloom two weeks now; he can recall the times as a young boy when his mother would fill the house with peonies during the week of the solstice. Their smell still in his mind; fresh, sweet, and personal. Spring was his favorite time of year.

This soft memory of his childhood remained one of his favorites, and he had commemorated it with its own tattoo on his body years before, and he could always look down at the pink peony on his ankle and the thought would flood back to him. He wasn’t a boy anymore, he’d had adulthood thrust on his lap far before he was ready.

Tonight, other half-thoughts ebbed and flowed through and out his mind, ones of the past, ones half lost, others he wished he could remember better. If only they had been more vivid. The rowdiness of the tavern he found himself trapped in made it all the more difficult to zero in on anything but those around him and the noise all trapped within the small establishment. 

Though Valravyn had to try, or at least  _ convince _ himself that he had tried. He had to keep thinking of other things, softer things, better things, than the alternative. He  _ couldn’t  _ focus in on the Wolf. He had to shove it down deep and bury it, ignore it when it howled, ignore the smells, and block out the voice inside that so wanted him to lose control.

He kept to the secluded corner of the tavern; the table he sat at gave him just enough space for his half empty pint glass, his empty bread plate, his elbows, and his leg under the table that would not stop shaking. 

A half dozen messages were carved into the stained wood. More than a few iterations of  _ “Fuck the King”  _ and  _ “Mildred was here!”,  _ his eyes fixed on the worn carving in the right corner of the table. It was conventional and by no means creative, a simple heart, a bit jagged, clearly done with an inexperienced hand, and within that heart, “ _ O. A. + M. H. forever. _

_ And were you together forever?  _ Valravyn exhaled deeply, tracing the carving, thinking of  _ her _ this time, for she was always the one who could find her way into his thoughts even in a crowded room.

_ Funny. _ He thought, taking a sip of his ale and a gaze at the bustling scene before him.  _ You’d think it was a holiday.  _ It seemed every face had a look full of life. Every person had a partner or an expression that longed for someone across the room. He continued tracing the edge of the carving as his eyes moved over the faces of every woman he could see.

A small half smile spread across his features as he recalled it, a time in his youth when he kept a mental list of things he loved about women. 

He loved it when women wore red and necklaces that were long enough to hide the pendants in their clothes. He loved sharp cheekbones and long noses that stood out from their faces. He loved crooked smiles and freckles, dusted over their skin like stars. He loved their collarbones, long necks, and full, thick curves. He loved prominent lips and curly eyelashes. He loved salty skin and brows that framed their faces. He loved soft hair and piercings just about anywhere. He loved hard, strong hands and delicate wrists. He loved women who made terrible jokes, women who spoke with an impassioned voice, and women whose actions were guided by conviction.

That was the teenage feeling. Jump to forty years later and there was nothing in the Northern Realms he loved more than Liria.

The half-elf silently shook his head, taking another sip of his drink and pushed the memory of his teenage daydreams back to where they belonged. A teenage Valravyn would never have dreamt up Liria, and he suspected that if his teenage self  _ had _ , he wouldn’t have had a clue to cope with her or himself.

_ Hell,  _ he thought,  _ Hardly know how to cope now that she’s gone. _

Liria had so often invoked the content of the soul. His own soul was dirty when he compared it to hers, something he found himself silently doing so often when she was with him. His soul-- it stunk of blood and murder and meddling the way smoke sticks to hair and silken fabric. Impossible to get out, no matter how hard you scrub. Yet, Liria had trusted and loved that soul just as he had hers.

The sharp clatter of a tankard falling nearby snapped Valravyn from his trance. He took a moment to take a calming breath, and settle the beast that was clawing at his ribs for attention yet again. And there he found his hand still resting upon the carved heart. The initials staring up at him, as if daring him to do the same.  _ Hell with it. _

Valravyn subtly produced a small switch knife from his belt, opening the blade and beginning on his own design. As crude as its predecessor and jagged around the edges, he cut into the wood his own heart. 

He knew Liria would disapprove of him defacing the table, despite it already being defaced. He could perfectly picture her furrowed brow and hear her disgruntled voice, telling him not to do such a thing. The thought of it only brought more of a smile to his face.  _ Sorry, darling, you’ll have to forgive me for this. And ask your gods to forgive me too. _

Valravyn finalized it with their initials, “ _ L + V”.  _ He smoothed his finger over the final outline, the smile fading from his face. How he wanted her here with him like she had been before. He wanted to hold her face in his hands say the words to her again. “ _ You are the only holy thing to a sinner like me.” _

As his finger went round and round the edges over and over again, he looked back at his inspiration. “ _ O. A. + M. H. forever”.  _ And then back to his own handiwork, making a final edit.

_ “L + V. Almost forever.” _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this, maybe in 2020 I will have some more writing juice in me. Writing is hard. But there's so much story for Liria and Valravyn and I want to tell it. Maybe I will.


End file.
